My nights. They haunt me. When you are at that point where BOTH toddler and newborn are NOT sleeping through the night, you begin to look at your nights a little different.
I don’t look forward to my nights anymore. I don’t crawl into bed and relax onto my pillow. I lay down, anxious, stiff and worried that the moment I fall asleep, is the moment that Georgie will wake up screaming and hitting me or my Vincent will want a bottle.
I turn off the light and stare into the darkness to see if Vincent is stirring under his bassinet canopy. I turn my cell phone light on and peer over into Georgie’s little cocoon of blankets, to see if he out like a light, or restless. I try and decipher based on his day, if I think he will sleep through the night or not. All the while, none of it really making any sense.
I lay on my left side. I hardly turn over. I just keep my mind focused on those two little boys and what I will do, if they wake up.
I admit, I am a professional now of keeping Vincent quiet enough to not wake up Georgie. And Vincent is becoming immune to his brothers night-time tantrums.
Everything is so much better during the day.
It’s when the night falls and I start making those bottles and my eyes start getting sleepy, that the anxiety creeps in.
And it’s the same thing. Every night.
